


good morning to you too

by Siriusstuff



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Domestic Fluff, Drabble, Established Relationship, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 04:58:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4126236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siriusstuff/pseuds/Siriusstuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The morning after an energetic night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	good morning to you too

**Author's Note:**

> This is my response to the prompt: things you said at the kitchen table.

Soon as Derek hears Stiles coming he gets up to pour a mug of coffee for him.

Stiles is already seated at the kitchen table when Derek returns. He looks a little scary, but that’s his morning face. Derek sets down the coffee and the sugar bowl; kisses Stiles on the forehead since he’s looking down, staring at his coffee.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” Derek says.

_Grumble._

Derek takes his seat.

“Did you notice my limping in here?” Stiles asks.

“Sorry, no,” Derek says. “Want to walk out and come back in so I can see?”

“So funny.—I’m _limping_!”

“Why?”

“’Why’ he asks.” Stiles glowers.

“Oh.” 

“’Oh,’ he says.

“Sorry, Stiles. I guess I misunderstood your cries of pain last night as shrieks of ecstasy.”

“Oh, _ho ho_ , stop _please_. You’re _killing_ me.—Do you see I’m sitting on a pillow? I _have_ to!”

Derek looks. Sure enough, Stiles’s butt is perched on one of the flat little decorative throw pillows Melissa McCall gave them after they’d got their sofa. Derek hates them.

“Do you want to sit on my lap instead?” Derek asks.

“Sitting on your lap is how I got into this condition!—We’re walking down the aisle in _two days_ , Derek. Well, _you’re_ walking and I’m limping down the aisle.—And I can just see our honeymoon photos now: ‘Here we are on Waikiki Beach. That’s me with the crutches.’”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have insisted on a third round.”

“So this is my fault now.”

“Well, you did insist on a third—”

“Well, why were _you_ lying there, your dick all hard and _inviting_!”

“It’s my fault I find you sexually appealing—”

“ _Yes_! Yes! It is! With your werewolf stamina—and your practically non-existent refractory period! This is all your fault!”

“I’m sorry, Stiles.” He genuinely is. “Want me to kiss it better?”

“OK.” Stiles pouts. “Yes.—Carry me?”

Derek does, bridal style, back to their bed.


End file.
